


regular-irregular

by yoonoohs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, Dismemberment, Gang Violence, Gangs, Gen, Homelessness, Minor Character Death, Murder, Non-Linear Narrative, Panic Attacks, Parties, Poverty, Revenge, Torture, lapslock, pretentious bullshit, the relationships are very blink and youll miss it, undercover police officer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 19:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18785137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoonoohs/pseuds/yoonoohs
Summary: six drabbles focusing on the lives of ten young men knowingly and unknowingly involved in things much more dangerous than they can ever imagine.or, a fake office/gang au





	1. 01. we make the world go

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by that video of dowoo fucking around w a copy machine and the regular office teasers. not beta read yet so all mistakes are mine lol

the office wasn't usually so quiet after hours, sicheng's decoy employees having taken to staying late to chatter and drown themselves in alcohol. yuta would be the first to admit he often instigated said after hours events, but it's not as if sicheng cared. yuta and jaehyun were given a chance to exploit the lavish office building and sicheng had his business front to shield the illicit activities going on behind the scenes.

tonight, however, was different. 

once every month, sicheng demanded his two closest informants - his right and left hands respectively - give him a summary of all the activities that took place in his office. as it happened, the two were yuta himself and jaehyun. 

the elevator ride up to sicheng's office was a familiar one. the tension permanently living in yuta's shoulders eased out, if only for a moment. next to him, jaehyun hummed absentmindedly as he inspected the small collection of blades on his person at all times. he wrinkled his nose in distaste. yuta would never understand why jaehyun insisted on such a messy way of getting a job done when things like firearms existed.

the elevator dinged and jaehyun slipped a dagger back into his inner jacket pocket. the two of them walked resolutely towards the end of the hall towards the large set of french double doors. the glass was polished and engraved finely with swirling designs of varying flowers and abstract geometric shapes. sicheng beckoned them in and jaehyun pushed the doors open. 

sicheng looked like a man out of time, sitting in his lavishly modern office. he had an ancient, regal air to him that made the striking white minimalist decor around him seem befitting of only the lowest peasantry. his narrow eyes and dangerous stoicism seemed almost reminiscent of an emperor. privately, yuta thought that the only things truly worthy of sicheng's grace were gold and jewels and his and jaehyun's undying loyalty. 

this wasn't an appropriate time for yuta to become transfixed, though, so he focused back on what jaehyun was saying. 

“-absinthe seems to be on the rise, somehow,” the other said, honey voice dipping in careful consideration. sicheng raised an eyebrow delicately. “and our regular product sales? the cocaine, acid?” yuta takes it as his turn to step up, finally having found his area of expertise. 

“cocaine's doing just as good, acid's been droppin’ though.” he shrugged. “i know a few of the decoy employees you keep around have bought from us before but it's always for coke.” 

the sharp slope of sicheng's lips turned just slightly. he clicked his tongue. “and what of the office workers? the ones i hired for their lack of prior knowledge.” yuta and jaehyun shared a subtle smirk. sicheng caught the look and scoffed. “i don't know why i ask when you two keep them up so late spending my money.” 

yuta rolled his eyes. “please, 'cheng, if you really wanted us to stop you would've said it already. let jae and i have our little fun, okay?” he pouted and leaned up to pucker his lips as if asking for a kiss. jaehyun laughed at the disgust contorting sicheng's handsome face. 

after a moment, yuta straightened out and sicheng's icy expression settled back on his delicate features. “you've done well,” he addressed the both of them, eye flitting between the two. “thank you for your work. you're free to leave now.” 

yuta and jaehyun shared matching grins as they slipped out of sicheng's office. 

“so, party tomorrow night?” jaehyun asked, eyes sparkling.


	2. close our eyes (go to sleep)

taeil liked his job. it was loose enough not to crush him under an oppressive routine but regulated enough that they weren't out of their depth. sicheng called in, told them what he wanted and how, and that was it. he was content as it was.

donghyuck, on the other hand, was not. 

he hated sorting mail and filing things and sending email after email, day after day. he craved some form of excitement and change, despite all of taeil's warnings to be careful. what danger could the baby faced ceo of a shitty insurance company be facing, anyway? 

that's why, on a particularly slow wednesday afternoon, donghyuck found himself opening a parcel addressed to sicheng with a suspicious amount of weight to it. 

it was a hot day in seoul, right in the crux of the unforgiving july heat, and the week was only just halfway through. donghyuck was past the point of bored. sicheng had made him and taeil handle sorting through his mail that day, so in a moment of complete recklessness, donghyuck grabbed the nearest package and opened it. taeil was busy organizing what looked like several pages worth of letters, so he figured it'd be no biggie if he just took a peek. 

carefully, he grabbed his keys and sliced the top open to see. staring back at him was a bloody hand resting delicately in a nest of packing peanuts. donghyuck screamed. 

taeil shot up and ran to his side, concern and panic blowing his eyes wide. he stopped when he reached donghyuck's desk and found the open package. “shit,” he whispered, quickly closing the package back up with shaky hands before turning back to him.

“hyuck,” taeil soothed, petting his honey curls back in place in a comforting gesture. “it's okay, hyuck. it's not real, probably just a prank.” donghyuck let out a scared sob, clutching taeil's sweater tightly. his older coworker brought him closer and cooed more reassurance in his ears. 

donghyuck sniffled and held back a panic attack. that shit wasn't _fake_. it looked too real, _too bloody_. he refused to believe it was just _some prank_ , no matter what taeil said. 

\--

taeil sighed quietly once hyuck fell asleep in the break room, eyebrows creased in fear even in sleep. he knew he should be upset at what hyuck did and probably report that to yuta or jaehyun, but he was too scared to know what they'd do to donghyuck. he was just shy of 20 years old, still a fucking _kid_. sure, taeil had grown a fondness for his mischievous coworker but that didn't change the fact that donghyuck was still young. he'd rather deal with the consequences himself than subject donghyuck to the cruelty taeil knew sicheng was all too adept at hiding. 

for now, he hoped the amputated hand in a box was enough of a distraction to keep sicheng from looking into this.


	3. falling in my motion

“thank you for calling, i'll be sure to keep in touch.” taeyong purred, voice honey sweet and dripping in sensuality. the middle aged lady on the other end giggled and taeyong hung up. he sighed quietly and went back to scrolling thoughtlessly though his instagram. day in and day out, it was call after call after call. he was lucky if he could go an hour without having to flirt someone out of calling again.

the phone rang again, and the resentment building up in his chest threatened to tear its way out and spill across the floor and walls in a disgusting display of bitterness. taeyong pushed the curling feeling away and answered the phone. 

(he blinks and it's years ago, decades back to a past he hates thinking about. his mother and father and sister are there, smiles frozen and eyes glassy. there's blood and loud noises and oh, god, papa please please wake up please they're saying they want money you owe them money please papa wake up and give them their money i'm scared-)

two years. two _fucking_ years of this shit. two years of facades and lies in sicheng's trashy little business. he had agreed to go undercover and sneak into weishen v's inner workings for junmyeon, for the police unit he called family, with the assurance it would be a quick intel mission but somehow he was straddled with a job and forced to keep post and stay as the seoul police department's eyes and ears. 

taeyong knew it was all bullishit. sicheng had most of the police force on payroll and those he didn't were being blackmailed into silence. taeyong was here simply for himself now; for himself and the frail idea of one day having enough to arrest sicheng himself. 

(gunshots ring through the tiny house and taeyong hides way in his tiny closet. he wonders when papa and mama and noona will wake up and tell him it was a joke all along.)

the young man on the other end of the line stuttered and stumbled through his words, trying to reign the conversation back to his mother's insurance. taeyong ignored his feeble attempts and flirted his way through another conversation. 

taeyong was bitter and angry and resentful but he was also _determined_. dong sicheng would face justice, one way or another. it didn't matter how long he had to flirt through the phone and smile plastic smiles to get there. 

(they never wake up.)


	4. (all you) kids who lost me

yuta found doyoung by chance.

more accurately, doyoung found yuta. he had been walking along the crowded streets of seoul, stumbling and making his expression as vacant as possible. people pushed past him and doyoung took his chance to pickpocket them. yuta should have been just another schmuck on the street, an oblivious civilian doyoung could use to get by another day. instead, yuta grabbed his wrist harshly, plucking his wallet from doyoung's hands and narrowing his eyes. 

doyoung swallowed and tried to make a run for it. he only made it a block away before yuta caught up with him again and dragged him to a secluded alley. 

“wait, please, i'm sorry,” doyoung pleaded, swallowing his pride in fear. the japanese man ignored the rapid fire please spilling from doyoung's mouth. far into the alley, away from any prying eyes, yuta pushed the would-be thief against the brick wall of whatever establishment was next door and glared. 

“who sent you?” he hissed, hand wrapped threateningly around doyoung's neck. doyoung's eyes went wide. breathing harshly, he tried to keep his cool. 

“no one sent me!” he defended hastily. yuta's grip tightened. “don't lie to me, what could you gain from stealing my wallet?” doyoung almost choked in the vice-like grip yuta had on his neck. 

“no one, i swear!” he cried out and reached up to scratch at yuta's hands in a feeble attempt to get free. “i just wanted some money to eat!” 

yuta's grip finally, finally loosened then, and doyoung fell to his feet choking and heaving. yuta watched the other sputter with an inquisitive sparkle in his eye. “you're homeless?” he asked, scanning doyoung's ratty jeans and torn hoodie. doyoung frowned, wary. “....yeah.” he muttered, tone guarded. yuta hummed. 

“would you like a job?” doyoung blinked

“i'm sorry?” he asked, stunned. yuta squatted down to doyoung's place on the grimy floor. “my boss is hiring around and i want to offer you a job.” doyoung opened his mouth to say anything but nothing came out. 

“of course, you'd start as an intern and then we'll see if my boss wants to keep you around.” yuta shrugged. finally, doyoung regained control of his vocal cords. “but i have almost no experience,” he protested weakly, unsure if this was real. yuta shrugged again. “don't need any. so are you in?” 

shocked but hopeful, doyoung nodded. yuta smiled. “perfect.” 

\--

jungwoo was not an accident. 

he had heard from the grapevine that doyoung had somehow gotten a _job_. someone seriously _hired_ him. it seemed too good to be true, despite everyone swearing left and right it was. jungwoo would admit to not being the absolute brightest person out there, but he wasn't _stupid_. he had his doubts so he took matters into his own hands and tracked his friend down to his workplace. 

the large building gleaming in the afternoon sun sent shivers down his back but he'd be damned if he backed out now. 

the inside was cold, with minimal decor and stark white walls that reminded jungwoo of hospitals in movies. the young man sitting at the secretary desk seemed to be the only pop of color against the harsh monochrome palette the rest of the office was bathed in. 

“excuse me,” the secretary did a double take at the state of dress jungwoo was in but quickly wiped any trace of shock and smiled prettily at him. jungwoo noticed the clean silver name plaque letting him know the secretary's name was _taeyong_ , written in a rather cute swirling font. 

“how can i help you, handsome?” taeyong purred, leaning forward just a bit too much. jungwoo ignored the obviously fake flirting. “i need to see kim doyoung. he's my friend.” he demanded. 

taeyong's facial expression grew cold, big doe eyes narrowing in an uninterested gaze. he reached for the phone and put up his pointer finger, a sign to wait. “mr. j, there's someone here wanting to see a _kim doyoung_.” there was a response on the other end, an awkward silence befalling the office for just a moment. finally, taeyong clicked his tongue and let out an affirmative hum for the person on the other end. 

“mr. j will see you soon.” taeyong rolled his eyes and went back to fiddling with his phone. jungwoo frowned. 

“i'm not here for whoever this _mr. j_ dude is, i'm here for doyoung!” taeyong shrugged. “mr. j is the only way to doyoung, can't help you anymore.” jungwoo groaned. “there has to be a way! i don't want to see _mr.j!”_

“how disappointing. am i that unbearable?” 

jungwoo turned his head, watching as a tall man with a head of fluffy chestnut hair approached him, presumably from the elevator on his right. his mouth went dry.. 

“i'm sorry, i just want to see my friend. i'm worried about him.” he admitted. jaehyun smiled, and jungwoo's first impression was cute. he had full cheeks and deep dimples, a full bottom lip accentuating his gentle smile. 

“that's alright,” jaehyuned chuckled. “come, i'll call doyoung down and you can talk.” he gave jungwoo another disarming smile before turning elegantly, his long coat flowing gently around him. jungwoo scuttered to follow. 

\--

jaehyun's office was just as minimal as the rest of the building, but small bits of color dotted the shelves and his desk in the forms of potted plants and trinkets. jaehyun was kind and made pleasant smile talk while they waited for doyoung to arrive. yet despite this, jungwoo felt uncomfortable. jaehyun seemed harmless enough but to jungwoo, having lived on the streets for most his life, he was _dangerous_. jaehyun held the energy of a tiger waiting to pounce, thrumming with the adrenaline of the kill. 

thankfully, the wait for doyoung wasn't long. he knocked on the door gently, calling out a gentle “sir?” through the door. jaehyun called him in and the door opened slowly. “sir, did i do something-?” the question died on his lips when he caught sight of jungwoo. 

“jungwoo!” he gasped, lips curled into his signature bunny smile. jungwoo smiled back as the tension in his shoulders faded away. he took the moment to admire his friend's healthier appearance.

doyoung was dressed elegantly in a dark business suit, hair slicked back and skin immaculate. his cheeks were full and the perpetual bags under his eyes were gone. there was no trace of the life he lived before. 

jaehyun chuckled and gestured for doyoung to take a seat next to jungwoo. his friend blushed but followed to order diligently. 

“your friend here said he wanted to see you. as you know, mr. y and i are in charge of your particular case so i thought it fit to be here.” jaehyun examined them both closely and the same unease from before returned. doyoung's smile didn't waver. “that's perfectly respectable, mr. j!” 

“you know, mr. kim, my boss said he's looking for another intern to help you out. if your friend here agrees, i can offer him the same deal mr. y offered you.” doyoung gasped and turned to jungwoo with wide, sparkling eyes. dread pooled in jungwoo's stomach. doyoung nodded at him and gave him the look, telling him to take it. jungwoo hesitated. 

“what's the deal?” jaehyun's smile widened, dimples deepening, and he's sure that under any other circumstances jungwoo would be charmed. “nothing big. you work for us and we offer you food, water, and shelter. you could room with mr. kim or we could accommodate your tastes.”

“you should take it,” doyoung whispered. “i know it seems sketchy, but they've been so generous to me.” jungwoo studied his friend's face, looking for any trace of fatigue or pain. there was nothing. doyoung genuinely seemed happier, better. he swallowed. 

“alright,” he muttered, extending his hand. jaehyun took it, shaking firmly. “wonderful. we look forward to having you work for us.” 

\--

jungwoo would have to be an idiot not to notice the sketchy nature of his job and the company itself, but he's learned to ignore it. the people here pay him and provide him for his basic necessities in exchange for jungwoo's complacency. in his books, this is far from the worst road to be on. 

he and doyoung fiddle with the copy machine, giggling and joking around. jaehyun passes them, paying no mind to their lack of productivity.


	5. my bank account go

johnny swaggered into the office looking like the cat that ate the canary. his expensive italian suit and slicked back hair gave him the air of a man who held power, but all those who really knew him knew that was downright bullshit. 

mark rolled his eyes, watching the tall man strut up to jaehyun, his longtime friend and boss. jaehyun didn't look impressed, but mark's learned that the mysterious brown haired man was suspiciously adept at faking expressions. 

“jaehyun, best friend, my dude, my bro,” johnny says, laying it on thick. “how's about you and your buddy turn a blind eye again tonight.” jaehyun raised an eyebrow in interest but otherwise his expression remains steely. “why's that?” he asked, as if he'd even consider saying no. johnny's wide grin, somehow, got larger. mark was sure his face would be tearing at the seams by now. 

“i bought a new bottle of champaign and i thought the least i could do to thank you for the wonderful job opportunity would be first dibs.” jaehyun's poker face finally fell as he scoffed and spared a smirk at his friend. “john, when was the last time mr. y and i didn't let you and the rest of the office have the building for the night?” 

johnny pumped a fist up in victory, looking ridiculous against the lavish decoration of the office and the prim and proper jaehyun. then again, mark thinks johnny always looks ridiculous so perhaps he's a bit biased. 

jaehyun walked off soon after, leaving johnny and mark with a promise to join them later in the night. he disappeared into the elevator, elegantly ignoring the whoops and cheers of the rest of the office as they come to find about their after work activities. 

johnny slides into the chair next to mark's beaming and preening. it strikes mark, suddenly, that johnny looks happy. seriously happy. something that feels suspiciously like fondness fizzles warmly in his chest and for once, mark doesn't push it down. 

“hey,” mark says, looking at johnny clearly. “i'm glad you seem happier now. less stressed.” johnny's silly expression slipped into a warmer one. “i am too.”

\--

mark is 14, not a boy anymore but not yet a man. johnny is 18 and infinitely older at once. their parents have been dead for years now. mark's forgotten what his dad's laugh sounds like and what his mother's smile looks like but he thinks perhaps it sounds like, looks like, johnny's. 

he's dropped out of high school and working three jobs, stressing and trying his best to keep their shitty apartment from falling apart. mark goes to high school, his freshman year, but he worries more of his brother and home and food at home than gpa's and exams. even still, he does his best and gets good grades and hope desperately it'll somehow help their little family of two. 

the years blow by in flashes of missing meals and extra hours. he pretends to sleep when he hears johnny sobbing quietly outside his door. 

their big break comes in the form of johnny's former best friend. sometime before johnny dropped out jaehyun had to move and the two had lost all contact. it had devastated his brother to lose the one person outside his family he could trust so suddenly but with growing debts he had to put that out of his mind in an effort to work efficiently. 

jaehyun had moved back after his graduation, inherited his father's money and company. he tracked down johnny his first day back. 

there's a knock on their door a little before 1 in the morning. mark is awake finishing his english project and johnny's cooking dinner. he's humming softly, quietly pleased that they had enough to spare for _good beef_. mark and johnny maintained a simple conversation, joking and smiling for the first time in months. the knock shakes them out of it and instinctively, johnny grabs a knife and motions for mark to hide. their neighborhood isn't the nicest. 

johnny looks through the peephole and gasps, dropping the knife and throwing the door open. 

mark watches his brother and his best friend greet each other and wonders if the halo around jaehyun's head was real or if it was just street light flooding in through their cracked windows. 

\--

jaehyun offers johnny a job at his new company. they argue and argue until johnny settles. jaehyun smiles and things fall into place.

mark's brother quits his three jobs and gets them into a modest but more comfortable apartment in the nicer area of the city, puts food on the table and has the time to help him with his schoolwork. jaehyun gifts his brother a tailored italian suit and promises mark an internship to help him through his schooling. 

things get better and mark never questions. he's too grateful to consider anything else. 

\--

johnny sits in his office and skims the pages of documents laid out in front of him. there's notes and comments written in the margins that he takes careful notice of. the dried blood splatters on the corners don't faze him anymore. 

jaehyun wasn't kidding when he talked about the gang he was born into, but neither was johnny when he said he'd help him if it meant a stable income.


	6. catch my dreams with my hands

dong sicheng has been called many things

a liar, a cheat, a sweetheart, the devil, god. everything under the sun, he's probably had it thrown at him. he doesn't particularly mind, either. it matters nothing to him how those below him see him. 

he didn't care what kun called him, yelling curses and swears and threats from the rubble of the warehouse. qian kun was a stepping stone and the meaningless mander that spilled from his battered and bruised and cut up lips was swiftly ignored. sicheng had jaehyun kill off any possible threats to his power, including kun's original right hand man, ten. 

(“please, please please,” sicheng begs, crying and tugging weakly at the restrains holding him up. the blank faced torturers let him wear himself out and cry. they would whip him everytime it looked like he was on the verge of sleep. no amount of pleading and begging did anything. they simply watched.) 

“jaehyun,” he murmured, watching the other stand up straighter, awaiting his new orders. sicheng almost smiled at the determination shining in his big brown eyes. he was always so eager to please, prove his worth as sicheng’s left. it was almost endearing, like jaehyun was an overgrown pup. “contact yuta,” he says. “tell him it’s time to come back.” 

(kun sends out a hit on his father, calls him a traitorous leech for handing out information to seoul pd. his hitmen don't waste time, shooting sicheng's father thrice in the chest and fleeing. his father gasps and cries and calls out and sicheng watches from his hiding place in the pantry. his father is dead within the hour.)

he swaggers into what was once kun's office. the assembled members of weishen v murmur questioningly but the sight of jaehyun and yuta, high ranking and trusted members, placates them. they've never trusted sicheng but most everyone here would give their life for jaehyun or yuta. sicheng is confident in his circumstances and power. 

jaehyun addresses the crowd first, smiling gently. there's an air of confusion clouding over the small group of men and women sichen relishes in it. 

“i regret to inform you all,” jaehyun starts, “our leader, qian kun, was…” he hesitated. a farce, obvious enough to sicheng and yuta but perfectly convincing to everyone else. “...was killed.” a hush falls over the room and jaehyun's incredible acting shines in his careful body language. “he's left dong sicheng as his heir. i will continue as the leader's left hand. sicheng has assigned nakamoto yuta as his right hand. thank you for your understanding.” a moment of silence passes after jaehyun finishes saying his piece before the indignant cries and complains begin. 

the cacophony of noise is enough to give sicheng a headache. he grimaces and steps up in front of jaehyun. 

“quiet!” he shouts. the booming tambire of his voice silences the crowd. “i understand you're all upset-” 

“you killed the boss, didn't you?!” a boy in the center of the crowd shouts. sicheng narrows his eyes and picks him out quickly enough. he recognizes him as liu yangyang, a young druglord who had caused kun a lot of trouble but everyone knew was loyal to the qian family wholeheartedly. “what makes you think that?” sicheng challenges, looking down at him through his eyelashes. yangyang glares. 

“kun is not a man that just _dies_. he'd fight to the very end, and even then he wouldn't ever leave his empire to you of all people.” the venom of yangyang's words was wasted on him. next to him, jaehyun and yuta bristle at the implications of the boy's words. 

sicheng tilts his head and smirks. “how astute. i suppose you want to do something about it?” yangyang squares his shoulders, looking as if he was getting ready for a fight. sicheng sighs and gives yuta a look. before the idiot little boy can even imagine to do anything, yuta shoots him. 

blood splatters across the floor and neatly pressed outfits of the remaining crowd. sicheng eyes them all distastefully. 

“anyone else feeling brave?” 

(“i'll get you out of here, ge!” chenle says, all big smiles and bruised cheeks. sicheng shook his head, keeping a hysterical sob down. 

“lele, please,” he begs, “it's not worth it, don't do it!” chenle ignores him and scoots up to the metal bars of their shitty cell. “hey! hey, assholes!” he shouts at the guards. “i have a deal for you and your little boss!” 

the guards chuckle but don't immediately shoot, so chenle takes the chance to continue. “my family has a secret safe full of money and riches, if you let us out i can take you to it!” the guards stare at chenle for a moment, considering it. sicheng almost has hope it'll work. 

then they laugh. they laugh loudly and abruptly and then they're firing and oh god chenle is dead. there's blood staining the floor and walls and sicheng's face and chenle is leaning against the bars lifelessly. he screams.)

sicheng takes control of weishen v with little resistance. it all flows smoothly and sicheng almost fools himself into thinking it'll all work out fine, no complications. 

he curses himself for that six months later, when the luxury hotel kun had set up as his cover gains police attention and investigation. he's forced to abandon it and in his haste to leave the hotel entirely in the hands of whatever fool kun had put in control, he also leaves damning evidence that the hotel was a gang cover. 

he curses himself for days before jaehyun and yuta gently remind him that it was all still technically in kun's name. sicheng settles down soon after that. 

(why why why why why why _why_ , sicheng wants to ask. why did you come back for me? why couldn't you have let me live? 

qian kun watches him with a cold kind of fascination. sicheng hates it. the man keeps watching as his men hurt and damage sicheng, watches as sicheng refuses to give in and make noise. he grins. he knew this kid would make a fine spoil of war; a demon in the making. now he just had to nurture the demon and keep him under his thumb.) 

the idea of the insurance company comes from jaehyun, initially. something boring enough but believably wealthy. the idea sticks and before he knows it, sicheng is buying and refurbishing a building right outside seoul. he assigns his right and left hand to find him workers and is pleasantly surprised with what they bring. 

their company goes forward and becomes an outstanding front. sure, he knows full well about lee taeyong but that idiot was as much danger to him as an ant. 

in his lavish and sterile office, sicheng allows himself a moment of pride. this was _his_ and _no one_ could take that from him. not without a bloodbath.

(“sicheng, my darling,” kun purrs.. “how about a deal, hm? i let you go and you work for me. you are an invaluable asset, i know it. you just need a bit more nurturing.” 

sicheng says nothing. kun continues.

“understand, of course, that you will be mostly free. you'd answer directly to me, but other than that you'd be free to carry out whatever mission or task in however way you wish.” 

what a fucking fool. sicheng took a deep breath. “okay. just please let me go.” he said quietly, voice hoarse. 

kun laughed self-righteously and sicheng swore to himself he'd kill qian kun and make sure no one would ever have this much power over him again.)

**Author's Note:**

> [my twt](https://twitter.starshinecyj/) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/gardenqian)


End file.
